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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168538">don't know where i'm going (but i'm finding my way)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamunamis/pseuds/kamunamis'>kamunamis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Strangers to Lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:35:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,730</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamunamis/pseuds/kamunamis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p> Rintarou draws a plant. He draws three plants. He colors a sketch he hadn’t finished last week. His professor continues to babble on about the expectations for the course, which Rintarou decides he will figure out later.</p>
  <p>(Hey, it’s worked for four semesters of college, surely it’ll work for a fifth.)</p>
  <p>He’s in the middle of sketching out yet another plant when he suddenly catches his eye on the syllabus next to him, where the words ‘partner project’ are in bold and all caps.</p>
  <p>Rintarou lets out a groan before sitting up in his seat and grabbing the syllabus to look at the partner project details.<br/></p>
</blockquote>aka the classic partner project trope but sunao
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SunaOsa Valentine's Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>don't know where i'm going (but i'm finding my way)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>heya!!! this is for <a href="https://twitter.com/riintaqqi">linn</a> on twitter!! i really enjoyed your requests and i hope this fic does it justice!</p><p>special thanks to addy and tara for helping me along the way</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Although Rintarou is an artist, he doesn’t care much for graphic design. He would rather be anywhere else but here in this computer lab where his introductory graphic design class is being taught this semester. But he can’t always get what he wants, so he’s stuck in this dumb classroom with fluorescent lights that are way too bright for seven in the morning, running on absolutely no sleep because he’d willfully ignored that today was his first day of class. Komori has already texted him twenty times today, fawning over a cute boy he met in his own lecture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Sometimes, he envies Komori’s early bird energy and enthusiasm for bright and sunny mornings. Other times, Rintarou wants to throw Komori off of a bridge. It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out how Rintarou feels today.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels embarrassing being in an introductory graphic design class as a third year, but oh well. He needs this for graduation purposes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s one of the last few to enter the classroom, so he ends up sitting in the back row. It’s a good thing though; that usually means that the professor won’t call on him as much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou settles into his seat. He contemplates whether he should draw or catch a quick power nap, but in the end, he decides he should at least make a </span>
  <em>
    <span>decent </span>
  </em>
  <span>first impression and stay awake even if he’s not paying attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls out his tablet and his stylus to doodle instead of paying attention to whatever his professor is trying to say, only looking up whenever someone hands him papers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou draws a plant. He draws three plants. He colors a sketch he hadn’t finished last week. His professor continues to babble on about the expectations for the course, which Rintarou decides he will figure out later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Hey, it’s worked for four semesters of college, surely it’ll work for a fifth.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s in the middle of sketching out yet another plant when he suddenly catches his eye on the syllabus next to him, where the words ‘partner project’ are in bold and all caps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou lets out a groan before sitting up in his seat and grabbing the syllabus to look at the partner project details.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The details are straightforward for the most part. Create a video with graphic design elements on the topic decided. Collaborate and cooperate with your partner. Make sure to meet all deadlines. He makes a disgusted face when he sees that the project is worth twenty-five percent of his grade and wonders which unfortunate soul is going to be working with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the very bottom, the syllabus tells him that his partner for the project is listed on the class website, so he pulls up the site on his tablet and tries to figure out one, how to find the group list, and two, who his partner even is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He doesn’t talk to a lot of people. Akagi and Komori are his only friends, although a loose definition at that.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After finagling around with the site and nearly stabbing his stylus into the screen of his tablet, he finally finds out that his partner for the group project is Miya Osamu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou snorts. “Dumb name,” he mutters under his breath. He exits out of the class website in hopes that Osamu will message him first before he turns to his plant drawings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the lecture passes by in an instant and Rintarou is one of the first out of the classroom as soon as the professor dismisses them. He winces as he’s met with the glare of the blinding sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Rintarou says before walking to his next classroom. Just two more lectures for today and then he can nap like a cat in his dorm room until Komori gets home in the evening and makes dinner for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not entirely sure why he chose seven o’clock in the morning for his first lecture, or why he chose to stack all three of his classes one after another without a break, but he’ll live with it. He has to; he doesn’t want to go through the effort of switching around his classes, especially after the first day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou sits down on the first open seat he sees, dropping his backpack down to the floor and once again pulling out his tablet to doodle instead of doing his homework.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even two minutes later, someone angrily marches up to him. His bleach job is absolutely terrible. It looks like he’s trying to murder his poor hair. “Can I help you?” Rintarou asks with a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I help you?” the other man says mockingly. “You’re sitting in my spot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the first day of class, I don’t care,” Rintarou deadpans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man points to the floor beside Rintarou. “That’s my bag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou looks to his right. “Huh. I guess that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>your bag. Oh well. You weren’t sitting here when I got to the classroom, so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If this were anyone else, he’d move. But this piss-hair man is picking a fight with him, so he’s going to be a snarky little shit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>if it’s eight-thirty in the morning. His patience is wearing thin, although he’s not entirely sure if he ever had thick patience in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I got here first!” he huffs, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are twenty other open seats here, mister, go find somewhere else to sit,” Rintarou barks. He stares the other man down until he grabs his bag and sits on the opposite side of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The entire lecture is spent lazily doodling on his iPad once again. The lecture after that, he finally decides to sit and pay attention to his professor. She’s a nice lady, and Rintarou would feel guilty if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>pay attention to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although the moment that class is over, Rintarou immediately dashes to his dorm room to take a nap. He’s starting to feel like his insides are about to eat him. Unfortunately before he can get to his nap, it turns out that Komori is home much earlier than expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suna!” he says excitedly upon seeing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou makes a noise in disgust. “You’re home early. I thought you had work after your classes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I canceled. Someone else decided to cover for me,” Komori explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How was school?” Komori asks, changing the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou shrugs. “Boring.” He can see Komori’s snarky smirk in the corner of his eye, so he glares at him. They end up in the middle of a staring contest before Komori blinks and whines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to sleep now,” Rintarou says with a sigh, interrupting Komori’s lament.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright! I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou doesn’t answer him. He heads into his bedroom and flops his body down on the bed. Rintarou pulls his phone out of his pocket and notices that Osamu texted him back. Oh well. He decides it’s a problem for when he wakes up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wakes up, he takes the time to properly read the text that Osamu sent him. Osamu wants to meet him sometime this week, which is understandable, although Rintarou will gripe about it until the meeting is over and done with. Rintarou sends him his available meeting dates for the rest of the week before putting his phone away to forget about it until later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu texts back eventually, agreeing to meet him the next afternoon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Rintarou shows up at the spot they agreed to meet at after their classes, inside the coffee shop on-campus. Rintarou sits down at one of the tables in the corner before texting Osamu to let him know he’s already there. The coffee shop is nearly empty and he’s the only one sitting alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not too long afterward, Osamu shows up and finds Rintarou in his little corner. There’s something unsettling about Osamu’s appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Osamu says. “Nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen you before,” Rintarou says with a sneer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shrugs. “I’m popular on campus, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no.” Rintarou shakes his head. “I saw you last week. You had piss-colored hair last time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu looks utterly confused. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your bleach job was shit,” Rintarou blurts out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re thinking of my twin, Atsumu,” Osamu corrects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou’s eyes narrow, making it clear that he doesn’t believe Osamu in the slightest. Osamu rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone, where the lock screen shows a picture of both Osamu and Atsumu together wearing jerseys. Well, that explains why Osamu didn’t recognize him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Rintarou decides that he still does not like Osamu if he's anything like Atsumu.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Osamu says. “We need to get started on our project.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu sighs. “Will you stop making sarcastic remarks every time I say something? I’m just trying to pass here, and I’m sure neither of us wants to spend our afternoon here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Force of habit.” Rintarou sighs deeply. “Anyway. Do you have any ideas for our topic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu nods and pulls out a notebook before flipping it open to a specific page. “Here. I have a list, I came up with it last night. See if you can find something you’ll like.” He slides the notebook across the table and Rintarou grabs it to inspect it closely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, Osamu’s ideas aren’t very </span>
  <em>
    <span>good. </span>
  </em>
  <span>All of the ideas seem to be related to food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” Osamu asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou slides the notebook back to Osamu. “I think they’re boring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, excuse you, I spent a long time trying to formulate these,” Osamu says with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you thinking with your head or with your stomach?” Rintarou fires back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu rolls his eyes. “Unbelievable. You’re acting like a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All of these ideas look and sound the same!” Rintarou says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why don’t you come up with something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou can’t answer, because he doesn’t have an idea prepared. He sighs deeply. “Fine. I guess we’ll go with one of your ideas. Give me the notebook.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu slides the notebook back to him, and Rintarou decides to pick the first idea he sees, which happens to be onigiri.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. Now that we’ve finally picked a topic, let’s decide how to divide the work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kill me now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rintarou thinks. He wants to get this done and over with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After another hour of back and forth bickering and arguing, they manage to get their tasks divided and files organized. It’s gotten darker outside and Rintarou can feel his stomach starting to growl. Komori is expecting him soon too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we want to keep meeting here?” Osamu asks while Rintarou is packing up. “Or should we pick another meeting spot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou shrugs. “I don’t mind meeting here. My dorm is close by anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. It’s a little bit far from the house I share with my brother and his boyfriends. But it has good wifi, so I always study here,” Osamu says. He takes a sip from the coffee he’s holding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou hums. “I might start coming here more often, then. The wifi is shitty in the dorms and the library is too quiet for my liking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu smiles slightly and gives a light wave before hoisting his messenger bag over his shoulder turning away. “Cool. See you around, Rintarou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou waves back, even though Osamu has already left the coffee shop, a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He walks back to his dorm feeling lighter than he felt before he met up with Osamu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lighthearted mood doesn’t go unnoticed by Komori, but Rintarou keeps a tight lip on what happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that, it doesn’t take long for Rintarou to warm up to Osamu. He finds that they actually work well together now that they know each other. It becomes a weekly occurrence that they meet at the coffee shop every week to work on the project, and at some point, they end up ahead of the rest of their classmates, so their weekly meet becomes a little more relaxed and a chance for them to catch up with each other on their personal lives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s funny, Rintarou hadn’t expected to find a friend in Osamu, but as he’s gotten to know him, he finds that Osamu has a warm and welcoming personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou ends up bored in another lecture one morning. He texted Osamu half an hour ago to play online cup pong, but he still hasn’t read the message yet. Rintarou doesn’t feel like doing homework either. He supposes he could draw, but he’s not exactly sure what to draw or where to start. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nonetheless, Rintarou opens the drawing app on his iPad and takes his stylus out of his pencil case before opening a blank canvas to start drawing. He decides to just wing it and fix all of the details later after he gets back to his dorm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tunes out the rest of his lecture and focuses all of his energy on drawing. It isn’t until he hears the rush of students packing up their things and leaving the classroom that Rintarou realizes class is over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except when he takes a look at his drawing, he realizes that his drawing looks like someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>eerily familiar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck? Is that my brother, you fucking perv?” someone says over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. I’ve been caught. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rintarou clicks the off button on his iPad before turning around to face Atsumu. He sighs. “It’s just a coincidence. Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands up to pack his things quickly and brushes past Atsumu before either of them can say anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou shivers when he steps outside, from both the awkward interaction and the biting cold outside. When he left the house that morning, he didn’t expect it to be this cold, so now he picked out his regular sweatshirt instead of digging for his thicker jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes in his pocket as he’s walking back to his dorm. It’s from Osamu. With the drawing still fresh in his mind, he freezes and accidentally drops his phone down on the concrete.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he mumbles, picking it up from the ground. His phone has a tiny dent in the bottom right corner and there’s a large crack across the screen. He tries to turn it on, to no avail. Rintarou grumbles, annoyed that he’s going to have to go to the repair shop to get it fixed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puts the phone inside his backpack and decides to deal with it later. The moment he gets to his dorm, he decides to take a nap to improve his sour mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t, really, because when he wakes up he finds his broken phone in his backpack and remembers that he never texted Osamu back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou whines as he pulls his iPad out and opens the messages app from there to look at Osamu’s text. As expected, it was just a response to cup pong. But, the guilt of drawing him earlier that day is starting to settle into his gut again. There’s no doubt that Atsumu has already told Osamu what he did, and he’s sure that Osamu secretly hates him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he scolds himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Osamu would say something if he didn’t like you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh well. Rintarou pushes the thought away in the meantime. He quickly deletes the canvas off of his app before putting his iPad away, in hopes that it’ll solve his problems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(It won’t, but hey, the sentiment is there.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, during their regularly scheduled meeting time, he finds that Osamu has already arrived, sitting at their usual table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu smiles brightly, delighted to see him. Rintarou sighs in relief, as it seems that Osamu doesn’t know anything about the drawing, but he knows he should still be cautious. “I didn’t think you would show up. You never answered my text yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shattered my phone,” Rintarou says, avoiding eye contact and omitting the fact that his iPad is synced to his phone. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get started?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou nods, taking his seat. “Yeah,” he mumbles, small but loud enough for Osamu to hear him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! There isn’t a whole lot for us to do today but we should make sure everything is ready for us to turn in for the first draft.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s face falls. “Are you mad at me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou squirms in his seat. “No… I’m not mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem different today. Did I do anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou shakes his head. Over his dead body is he going to admit that he drew Osamu. He’s surprised he hasn’t melted into a puddle out of embarrassment yet. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. I’m here to listen if you need anything though,” Osamu says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks….” Rintarou says, trailing off. There’s a mildly uncomfortable pause before he speaks up again. “We should get back to the project now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu nods, and the conversation ends there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The meeting is definitely a lot more stiff and awkward than usual. Nonetheless, they manage to accomplish a bit before it’s time for them to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure you’re not mad at me?” Osamu asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rintarou says. “It’s… a personal thing.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not like that’s a lie, is it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I’ll get over it soon.” Or at least, he hopes so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feel better soon!” Osamu quips, and Rintarou feels like dying on the spot. Osamu is so incredibly warm and friendly, he doesn’t deserve this at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile curves on Rintarou’s lips. “Thanks. See you in class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time goes on. Rintarou and Osamu pass their first draft and now all they have to do is tweak their video project according to the notes their professor and their peers had left. It doesn’t take them that long at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Thanksgiving rolls around the corner. Rintarou had plans to see his family, but unfortunately, there’s a snowstorm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I fucking hate the snow,” Rintarou whines. “Why is it snowing in goddamn November? I wanted to go home and see my sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou did not plan for his holiday very well. He was going to get a rental car the day of and just drive back home to see his family, but then the weather decided that Rintarou’s plans were not important. Thankfully the dorms are still open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Osamu says. “You’re welcome to join my brother and I at our house though. Although, fair warning, I’m sure he’s going to be an annoying little shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou giggles. “I don’t mind. Hey, at least you’re there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Rintarou shows up to Osamu’s house, a man who is not Atsumu nor Osamu opens the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou looks at him, confused. “Uh, sorry, did Osamu give me the wrong address?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in front of him shakes his head. “Nah, I’m Oikawa, Atsumu’s boyfriend. Samu-chan chose well, huh?” he says with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let him in, Oikawa,” Osamu says, sounding exasperated. Rintarou hears a clattering sound, followed by Osamu and Atsumu’s bickering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oikawa steps aside to let Rintarou in, and he’s immediately met with Atsumu and Osamu wrestling each other on the floor. He’s not entirely sure how to react. Although, Osamu did mention that he and his brother tend to fight a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu lifts himself off of Atsumu and a wide grin appears on his face. “Suna! Hey! Glad you could make it. Dinner’s almost ready.” He points to Atsumu. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, this is my brother. That’s Oikawa over there, his boyfriend. We’re still waiting on his other boyfriend to come home from work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a seat, anywhere you want,” Osamu offers, pointing to the dining table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou nods and takes a seat at one of the end seats. Not too long after, another man - more like boy - with bright orange hair shows up, immediately jumping into Oikawa’s arms the moment he sees him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu huffs. “Well, what about me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ATSUMU-SAN!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s gloomy disposition vanishes the moment his boyfriend leaps toward him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“SHOUYOU!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou sighs. Had he known how loud these people were going to be, he would’ve stayed home by himself. He was not going to follow Komori, especially not after what happened two years before where Komori’s relatives were entirely overbearing and nosy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(No, thank you.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re always like this,” Osamu says, as if he read Rintarou’s mind. “They’re not even drunk yet. You know it’s going to get worse once they drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you put up with this every day?” Rintarou asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately.” The oven beeps once the timer is up, and Osamu rushes to grab the food. “Bring the wine to the table, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou grabs the wine off of the island counter and sets it down on the dining table. He laughs when he sees the turkey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what now?” Osamu says, giving Rintarou a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou covers his mouth as he laughs slightly, and Osamu sits down next to him. “I was thinking you would pick a more diverse dinner, since you’re always obsessed with food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shrugs. “Don’t judge me, you bitch. We’ve always had Thanksgiving like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not judging!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like you’re judging.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m judging.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shoves Rintarou. “Eat your dinner already, Rin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once dinner is over, Atsumu decides to break out the karaoke machine. Osamu groans the moment he sees the shit-eating grin on Atsumu’s face. “No,” he says firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on!” Atsumu whines. “You haven’t even heard my idea yet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu rolls his eyes. “You’re going to force Suna and I and to sing some sappy, romantic duet like something out of a rom-com shoujo manga thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Rintarou starts blushing.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu holds his hands up in defense. “You said it, not me.” He claps his hands together. “Oi, Oikawa-chan! You and me, duet! I bet I can sing better than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way!” Oikawa lunges forward to Atsumu, climbing on his back. “Give me the microphone, you bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! No fair, I want to join in on the fun too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Atsumu and his boyfriends are busy squabbling over the karaoke machine, screeching their lungs out over which ABBA song to play first, Rintarou and Osamu sit down on the sofa observing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re so obnoxious,” Rintarou says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu laughs slightly. “Admit it, they’re fun to watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the troublesome trio tire themselves out, they try to coax Osamu and Rintarou into singing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on! It’s fun!” Atsumu says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s easier to go with it than to resist and have them pester you all night,” Osamu says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou begrudgingly stands up to sing with Osamu. He’s nervous, he doesn’t usually sing much. The last time he sang in front of an audience was a few months ago when he went drinking with his sister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu hands Rintarou the microphone. Rintarou’s hand shakes as he grabs it from Osamu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, none of us sing in-tune anyway,” Osamu says in an attempt to reassure him. It doesn’t, but the sentiment is there, and Rintarou appreciates it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The karaoke machine starts playing the tune, and Rintarou watches as the title of the song starts flashing on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou takes a deep breath and starts singing along with Osamu once the counter counts down to zero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song Atsumu picked was romantic, to say the least. Of course, Rintarou shouldn’t have expected anything different. As he’s singing, he doesn’t fail to notice Osamu’s deep, melodic singing voice. Rintarou feels a little self-conscious about his mediocre vocals now, but Osamu grabs his hand, as if to tell him that everything is fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou feels like he’s in a dream right now, but as he accidentally knocks his leg into the coffee table, he is assured that it’s most certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he knows it, the song is over and the score is displayed across the TV screen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>94.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu holds his hand up for a high-five, and Rintarou high-fives back. “Not bad, Rin!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou scoffs and nudges Osamu in the ribs. “Really? That 94 is all you, ‘Samu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t sell yourself short like that, you can carry a tune!” Osamu says, a wide grin on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou huffs, but it’s clear that he’s not upset.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, we get it, you two can sing!” Oikawa says. “Now it’s my turn!” Rintarou hands him the microphone, and he and Osamu head off into the kitchen away from the chaos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu and Rintarou sit on the barstools next to the island counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never told me you could sing?” Rintarou says, though it comes off as more of a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shrugs. “‘Tsumu and I are competitive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re competitive over everything,” Osamu says. “That’s just the way we are. I still love that moron though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou giggles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a way to get home?” Osamu asks later when the party is wrapping up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou nods. “Yeah, I’ll wait for an Uber.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu’s eyes widen. “No way in hell am I letting you take an Uber this late at night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Samu, don’t worry about it,” Rintarou says. “I can make my own way home, you don’t have to worry about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu shakes his head. “No, I’ll feel guilty if I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou hums. “Fine. Just this once. I owe you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal.” Osamu turns to call Atsumu. “Do you mind if I take Rintarou home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah! I’ll be fine here!” Atsumu calls back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu grabs his coat and keys off of the coat rack. “Alright then, I’ll take you back to the dorms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou follows Osamu out to his car. Upon entering it, he notices that it smells sweet, like lemons. Osamu’s car is clean and tidy, much like his apartment. It doesn’t take much for Rintarou to assume that Osamu does the cleaning around the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind if I listen to music?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s your car. And you’re the one driving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then.” Osamu fumbles around with the CD compartment in his car, pulling the first CD out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s an album Rintarou isn’t familiar with, but it’s a good album and it feels like it fits the setting, like he’s in some sort of Hollywood film.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The streets are practically empty this time of the night as they head into the city. Before he knows it, they’ve reached the campus parking lot. Osamu turns off the car once he pulls into a parking space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu climbs out of the car as Rintarou gets out, and Rintarou can only stare at him in bemusement for a moment. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m walking you back to your room, moron,” Osamu says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou decides not to fight it. Osamu can be headstrong when he wants to be. The walk up to the dorm building is quiet save for the bursts of wind blowing past. Osamu and Rintarou walk side by side, although Osamu speeds up just a bit to get to the door and open it for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Rintarou steps inside the dorm building, he sighs in relief as it’s much warmer than outside. He continues walking down the hallway with Osamu until they reach his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops in front of his door and Osamu stands right in front of him, facing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. This is it. I’ll see you again next week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess so.” Osamu and Rintarou stare at each other for a moment. Rintarou’s eyes fall down to Osamu’s lips. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu steps closer to Rintarou. He puts his hands on his cheeks and leans in to kiss him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I?” Osamu asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou nods. “Go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu closes the distance between them. It’s a soft, sweet kiss, certainly a better first kiss than most first kisses Rintarou had. Osamu pulls away first, but Rintarou kisses him again, draping his arms over Osamu’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like you,” Rintarou says when they finally pull apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu scoffs. “No shit. I like you too, moron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou laughs slightly. “Yeah, yeah. We’re still on for Monday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. It’ll be our first date,” Osamu says with a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rintarou is left speechless. Before he can gather his thoughts, Osamu is already backing away slowly. “Wh - hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Osamu only laughs. “Love you too, Rin!” he shouts from across the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asshole,” Rintarou mumbles to himself before he heads into his room and collapses onto his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(And to think all of this started with a school project.)</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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